Such Terrible Things
by Fenris's Slytherin Princess
Summary: Draco, with his two children, Scorpius and Rose, looks back on his life with Hermione. Based on the song Terrible Things by Mayday Parade.


**Song: Terrible Things by Mayday Parade**

Large, brown eyes blinked up at him expectantly. A pale, freckled hand rested on his knee. Rosy cheeks and parted lips awaited an answer that he didn't want to give. Merlin, Draco didn't want to give that answer. Draco put his port glass down, and replaced the crystal stopper in the decanter. "Get your brother, Rose," Draco mumbled quietly, and took a deep breath. He cast his gaze towards a crackling fire opposite his comfortable chair, and memories washed over him. He shook his head, and feigned a complacent smile when the small girl toddled towards him, holding a large, even paler hand.  
"What is it, Dad?" The boy asked, his steely eyes assessing his father carefully. "I was busy," he sighed, and let himself be led by his sister to his father's feet.  
"What's the date, Scorpius?" Draco asked, his voice mildly laced with sarcasm.  
"I-" Scorpius faltered, as if he'd forgotten the date. He hadn't, of course, forgotten the date. He'd written it nearly eighteen times that day, but he'd forgotten how important the date was. "I wasn't that busy," he corrected himself, and sat by his father's feet. Rose lifted her arms up, and Draco held back a watery smile as he helped her onto his knee.  
"Quite," Draco said curtly, and played with a loose curl of Rose's. "Merlin, Scorp," his voice softened, "I bet you were talking to that Lily girl, weren't you?"  
"I know you don't approve, Father-" Scorpius began.  
Draco held up his hand, and his son stopped. "No," he merely breathed, "just _listen._" Draco's eyes fell upon his daughter; she was a small thing, with more brains than almost anyone he'd ever met, and the guts of a true Malfoy. But she was softer than that. She liked animals, and, much to Draco's amusement, she liked playing with the House Elves (though they had few). She had more books than an library in Wizarding England, and most of those books were Muggle. Draco didn't mind. No- he wanted a happy, if slightly dysfunctional, family. And he had achieved that, in his seemingly meaningless life. "Did I ever tell you, Rose, that you look like her?" Rose nodded proudly, and Draco smiled happily. But he wasn't really happy. "How old are you, Scorpius?" Draco asked, though he hadn't forgotten. He was setting the back drop to his wonderful, amazing, tragic story.  
"Seventeen, now, Father," Scorpius mumbled, and he knew his father hadn't forgotten either. "Last year," he suppressed a smug smile, and looked at his knees. Funny, isn't it, how interesting knees become when you're uncomfortable?  
"Ah," Draco hugged his daughter to his chest, and kissed her head, still addressing Scorpius. "When I was your age, all I wanted was to fall in love." He sighed quietly, "with your grandfather in Azkaban, and your grandmother bed ridden with grief, I was lonely. I was always alone. Aunt Pansy and Uncle Blaise were _really _my only friends..."

"Just go out, Draco!" A seventeen year old Pansy giggled, and tugged on Draco's sleeve.  
"Please," Blaise rolled his eyes, and sighed loudly, "she won't bloody shut up."  
"Okay!" Draco relented finally, "if it'll get you two to piss off!"

"Aunt Pansy dragged me along to this dance thing in Hogsmeade," Draco sighed, and played with his daughter's hair some more, "and it was probably the best thing that had ever happened to me."  
"I thought everyone hated you?" Scorpius asked, trying to wind up his father.  
"I was cleared of all charges. Most people forgave me," he looked away, "even your mother, surprisingly."

"Isn't she looking great?" Blaise sipped some kind of toxic alcoholic concoction, indicating towards a slight, brown haired girl sat at the other end of the bar. Draco merely grunted, though he agreed, and so much more. "I'm going for a piss," Blaise muttered, and walked to the bathroom with one of such grace, that he may be confused with a ballet dancer. Draco sipped his pumpkin juice, but kept his eyes firmly on the girl at the other end of the bar. He straightened his jacket out, and tried to look happy to be alive. He probably looked way too long, because the girl came over to him, smiling back.  
"Hello, Draco." Her tone was light and pleasant.  
"Hello, Hermione." He copied her voice. "You look beautiful," more beautiful than any girl Draco had ever seen.  
Hermione giggled, "you look wonderful." Draco blushed. "I couldn't help but notice that you were staring at me, a moment ago." Her eyes dropped nervously, "I was staring too."  
"Oh," Draco's heart fluttered, and he knew for sure he was blushing.  
"Maybe we could go somewhere more private, and discuss the theory that your eyes are giving your emotions away?" Hermione's eyes flickered upwards, but her head was fixed.  
"What emotions?" Draco tried to sound smooth, but probably said more 'uh's and 'um's than possible.  
Slowly and shyly, Hermione said, "well, I believe that I can tell by your eyes that you're in love with me."

"She was wonderful," Draco heaved a heavy sigh. "She always was, but I was too much of a pillock to do a thing about it, because she was a Muggleborn, and 'not good enough', and besides, I wasn't _meant _to marry her."  
"Dad," Scorpius rested his hand on his father's knee, "it's okay."  
"No," Draco muttered sternly, "learn from my mistakes."

"Draco!" Hermione laughed as Draco's hands tickled her sides. Her face was red, and she couldn't break the fit of giggles she was in. "Stop!" Their second summer together was, as they'd both agree in a few years time, was their favourite.  
"Make me!" Draco was laughing too, and he was happy. So Hermione did. She closed her lips around Draco's, and pulled him into a hot, feverish kiss. "That'll work," Draco said, looking a little dizzy, after pulling away. Hermione's lips were a little swollen, and her arms were wrapped around Draco's middle, and she still looked as beautiful as she always had.  
"Thought so," she muttered smugly, and sat down on a picnic blanket.

"Don't drink as much as we did," Draco smiled, "because you'll forget all the happy memories. We didn't care. I don't know if we were too dumb or too in love." Scorpius nodded, and felt his heart breaking at the sight of his sister being cradled by one who needed cradling more.

"Can I tell you a wonderful thing?" Draco asked, fishing around in his bag.  
"What?" Hermione asked, trying to look in.  
Draco swatted her away, and pulled out a small parcel. "I made you a present of paper and string!"  
"Oh," Hermione sounded disappointed.  
"Carefully wave your wand over it!" Draco grinned. Their second summer was the best, by far. "Go on!"  
Hermione sighed, "okay." She got her wand out, waved it once, and nearly broke down in tears. "Merlin!" She screamed, delighted. Draco now held a gold and emerald engagement band in his hand, and presented it to Hermione.  
"Hermione Jean Granger, will you do me the tremendous honour of accepting my hand in marriage? I even asked Harry, and he said yes. Please, Hermione? I love you." He asked, his words sounding rehearsed but sincere, getting down on one knee.  
"Of course, you fool."

"After Rose," Draco sent his daughter to bed, "it went wrong."  
"Dad..." Scorpius sounded weak; almost as weak as his father.

"Honey," Hermione, lying in bed, her skin wrinkled and pale, "come here."  
Draco sat by Hermione's hospital bed, and held back a oceans worth of tears. "Yes?"  
"It's time," Hermione nodded grimly.  
"No," Draco shook his head, refusing this information. "It can't be! You're so young!"  
"Shush, love," Hermione patted Draco's hand, and felt a lonesome tear slide down her own face. "I've not got long left," her voice wavered.  
"I'll save you," Draco couldn't look away from Hermione, but he couldn't bare to cry in front of her. So he compromised. He swallowed his tears, along with his fears, and kept his eyes on his beautiful, amazing wife.  
"Oh," Hermione sounded flattered, "my hero." Nearing her deathbed, she still smiled. And her smile still lit up Draco's heart like a Christmas tree. He couldn't hold it in anymore.  
"It's not fair," he let himself cry, "I don't want to lose you. I love you."  
"Please, Draco, don't be sad. Not now, not ever." Her words were firm and bossy.  
"I can't lose the one person I've got left." Draco protested.  
"Be strong for Rosie and Scorpius," she ordered, but her voice was softer. "I really believe that you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me."  
"No," Draco wailed, and put his head near Hermione's. "I love you!"  
"And I love you," she said, soothing her husband for one final time."

"Son? Don't fall in love, there's just too much to lose."


End file.
